


The Mastery of Death

by consalem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Dimension, Implied/Referenced Torture, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Master of Death Harry Potter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consalem/pseuds/consalem
Summary: The Tales of Beedle the Bard as a book has been around for a very long time. Some stories added here and there, others removed eventually to make room for more. There are few that have been included in every version and print that has been produced. However, one in particular has, without fail, been included in every single copy, translation, or reproduction. The Tale of the Three Brothers. Being predominately a children's book, most don't truly notice any small differences that add up over time. Different languages have slightly different meanings of certain words. Different scribes may paraphrase a sentence or paragraph a slightly different way. After all - it's only a children's book. As time passed and the original wording of the story fell out of memory so too did the warning that came with it.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Harry sat on the edge of the cliff overlooking the dense forest below with the semi-transparent wispy clouds floating just above the upper reaches of the treetops. The chill breeze lifted his hair and gently moved it around his face, brushing against his cheeks is a soft caress. His left leg dangling over the edge, hundreds of metres above anything solid, while his right heel kept his other leg bent up as a prop for his right arm which rested listlessly atop. Fingering his throat lightly with his free hand, eyes unfocused, paying no attention to the birds that swooped and dove through the air and clouds; their cries mixing with the sound of the wind into something both comforting and unnatural sounding.

The sudden drop in wind and movement, the overwhelming feeling of stillness from directly behind him had his eyes slowly clearing and his left hand dropping to rest on his thigh but otherwise he did not move.

" _I had wondered where you had wandered off to. You've gotten much better at hiding when you don't wish to be found. Although, I don't know why you bother. We both know I can find you anywhere._ "

Harry sighed and slowly rose to his feet. He stared out over the great expanse of wilderness for a moment more, allowing himself one last breath of imagined freedom before turning around with no regard to the immense drop directly behind that one misstep or stumble would send him hurtling down into.

"I simply wished to do some sight seeing."

" _Hmm. I'm sure._ " The being took a step towards Harry, reaching out an arm towards him. " _Come Maliu. We must be going now. You've had your free time._ "

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. His eyes opened taking in the figure in front of him; the absolute stillness, not a single piece of the tattered black robe moving, in direct contrast to his own hair, that was now whipping around his head with the suddenly increased wind, and his shirt and pant legs that were lifting and fluttering around his form in protest to the air movement. The figure's arm remained extended with the kind of patience that spoke of an unwavering certainty that Harry would indeed go with them.

Taking one last deep breath of the cold damp air, Harry stepped forward. The figure's hand closed around Harry's upper left arm in a steel band of strength leaving no option for stepping away again. A low _whoosh_ sounded, though no ears were present to hear it, and the clifftop was empty once more; the swooping, crying birds and harsh wind the only presence to be found.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Harry walked swiftly but surely towards Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The early morning air was just starting to warm, the sky still a pale orange fading upwards to the dark blue of retreating night. Few people were around; one older woman setting up an outdoor display outside a small cosmetic potions supply store, two drunks stumbling and helping each other down the street - having fallen asleep in an alleyway after the pubs kicked them out only to be awakened by a post owl dropping the morning newspaper directly on their faces, and an older gentleman sitting on a bench with a cup of tea and a book. Harry paid no attention to the few occupying Diagon Alley other than to note their existence, continuing on up the front stairs of the Goblin-run bank.

Grasping one of the large engraved doors, pulling it open and stepping through to the soft sounds of light footsteps, coins shifting, and murmured words of Gobbledegook from the Goblins currently going about their jobs. Other than himself there was no one present but the Goblins and Harry steadily made his way to one of the few Goblins actually at a desk, busy examining a large sapphire with a magnification monocle over his right eye.

As Harry walked he was aware of the slowly quieting noise of the bank's occupants. The light footsteps slowed, the murmured conversations trailed off, and the coins stopped clinking. The Goblin looked up as he approached, eyes slightly widening as he reached up to remove the monocle and place the sapphire gently on the desk in front of himself. 

" **My Lord,** " the Goblin spoke softly in Gobbledegook, lowering his chin in a slight deferral to the young looking man in front of him.

" **Hello Master Goblin. I wish to visit my vault** ," Harry responded in an even tone, not acknowledging the nod.

" **Of course, My Lord. Please follow me**." The Goblin hopped down off of the stool and quickly made his way to a door near the back of the large, cavernous room. Harry followed closely behind as the Goblin lead the way through a narrow hall to a small outcropping with a set of small railroad tracks perched on the edge, leading off into the darkness. The Goblin raised two fingers to his lips and produced an earsplitting whistle that echoed and bounced for several long moments. Harry stood patiently waiting with his hands tucked into his pockets behind the Goblin, pointedly not looking at the poor creature who was shifting and fidgeting uncomfortably with Harry standing close at his back.

The rattling clatter of a cart on the tracks began softly in the distance, getting louder by the second, the sound bouncing in a way that made it impossible to tell what direction it was coming from before when, with an almighty screech, the cart came whipping around the tracks from the left and stopped directly in front of the Goblin.

The Goblin let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief at being able to step away, even just momentarily, from the man behind him, as he stepped into the cart and motioned for Harry to follow him.

Harry sat with his hands resting on his lap as the cart sped at breakneck speed through the cavern. Flashes of light and glimpses of vault doors winked in and out of sight along either side of the cart as it moved up and down and twisted in seemingly random directions before coming to an abrupt halt, allowing his blown back hair to settle once again against his cheeks and neck.

Exiting the cart steadily, Harry approached the wall that appeared to be solid rock while the Goblin stayed in the cart. As he stepped up to the blank expanse he could feel his magic being stroked and probed by the magic surrounding the area. A door slowly formed in the rock, almost twenty feet tall and half as wide. Harry approached the black door paying little attention to the symbol etched in relief in the centre of the door; a large triangle encompassing a circle with a line bisecting the two down the middle. He placed his right hand in the centre of the symbol and the rock of the surrounding area trembled slightly as a crack formed at the top and bottom of the middle line of the symbol, spreading up to the top of the door and down towards the floor before, with a loud groan, the now split door swung inwards in two halves with a gust of musty smelling air emerging from within.

Paying no mind to the waiting Goblin, knowing he would see nothing but Harry stepping through what seemed to still be the solid rock wall, Harry stepped into the large vault. Bypassing the many packed full bookshelves lining the walls near the entrance and the piles upon piles of jewels and semi-precious stones, Harry stopped by the large pile of Galleons. Withdrawing a small pouch from an inner pocket of his black outer robe, Harry quickly transferred quite a few handfuls of the golden coins into the pouch; far more than the pouch should have realistically been able to contain.

Stepping back out of the vault onto the small outcropping, Harry felt the large boom reverberate through the surrounding area as the doors behind him swung shut, once more fading away to appear as nothing more than a plain rock wall. Re-entering the cart Harry nodded to the Goblin and the cart promptly took off once again.

* * *

Emerging from the bank, Harry noted the slightly higher position of the sun; the dark blue of night no longer anywhere to be seen. The Alley had picked up in pace; most, if not all, shops now open for business for the day. The bustling energy of shoppers on a mission filled the air with an almost buzzing static feel. Harry swiftly moved down the steps of the bank into the crowd, making his way towards one of the newspaper stands, briefly handing over a Galleon to the stand operator, waiting patiently for his paper and change to be handed over.

"Have a wonderful day, sir!" said the operator cheerfully as he handed over a handful of Sickles and Knuts as well as the morning edition of The Daily Prophet. Harry gave the man a small nod while replacing the money pouch in his robes and took the paper before heading towards a small cafe that didn't appear too busy. Seating himself at a small wrought iron table and placing an order for a cup of tea and a couple of blueberry scones, Harry unfolded the newspaper and looked for the date. 

**17th July** **1980**.

Harry took a deep breath. Two weeks to the day before he'd be born...or at least, two weeks before Harry Potter would be born. Glancing up into the crowds once more, Harry noted the somewhat anxious and rushed energy amongst the shoppers that he hadn't noticed before. The first war with Voldemort would be in full swing right now leading to the pinched look of most people in the Alley as they did their best to get what they needed and leave before they became a target. Sighing softly, Harry looked back down to the paper spread across the table and decided to read the various articles and see exactly what he was dealing with.

A small clatter had him looking up as the cafe's waitress stepped up beside him with a smile, placing an empty cup and saucer, a small pot of tea, two scones, and an assortment of butter, jam, milk, sugar, and lemon in front of him. Thanking her, Harry folded up the paper and pulled the cup and pot of tea towards himself.

Leaning back in the chair, cradling the tea cup, Harry once more turned his thoughts to the date. He would have to look into a few more things to be sure this world was the same as the one he had grown up in before acting but based on what he had witnessed and what the newspaper had reported he was fairly confident that that was indeed the case. Finishing the pot of tea, Harry quickly stood, placed a few Galleons on the table and once more joined the flow of the crowd surrounding the area, leaving the newspaper and untouched scones on the table with the tea set and money.

Harry continued to walk throughout Diagon making note of the stores and people he witnessed, further confirming his suspicions of where, or rather when, he was. Coming upon Ollivander's : Maker's of Fine Wands Harry hesitated. Technically speaking, he had no need of a wand. And if he wanted to get even more detail oriented he already had one. However, both not using a wand and using one as well known as his current wand would likely bring unwanted attention towards himself. Making his decision, Harry pulled open the door and stepped into the dusty store. A small bell at the top of the door gave a soft jingle and the sounds from the street almost completely silenced as the door swung shut with a soft thud. The quiet of the room, only disrupted by his own breathing, had the feeling of stumbling into an old library; full of knowledge long lost to the world.

Footsteps emerging from the stacks upon stacks of narrow boxes of wands revealed the presence of Ollivander. He looked the same as Harry remembered from his own youth, coming in for his first wand; eleven and a half inches, holly and phoenix feather, brother wand to the Dark Lord Voldemort. The man, slightly hunched with white, wispy hair and pale blue eyes stopped abruptly at the sight of Harry.

Saying nothing, Harry simply looked back, his face impassive. 

"I have seen many things in my time," Ollivander spoke at last. "Many things, many people, many beasts. I have seen wizards and witches, werewolves and vampires, muggles, demigods, spirits, and demons. And yet -," Ollivander paused, head tilted slightly to the side. "And yet I can't say I have ever seen you. Who, or rather, _what_ are you?"

Harry lips gave a slight twitch at the corner, "Hello Mr. Ollivander. I am Maliu Lekhoba."

Ollivander hummed lightly. "That does not answer my question."

Harry's lips pulled up a bit more, twisting his face into something that should have been a smile but came across as something bitter instead, but did not answer.

Ollivander waited a moment more to see if he would say more but eventually nodded slowly. "Well Mr. Lekhoba, what can I do for you?"

"I would like a wand."

"Hmm yes, I suppose that would explain you coming here." Ollivander examined him for another second while Harry continued to give him the same twisted smile; the closest thing to a real smile he had been able to manage for a long time. "Well!" he finally exclaimed and rubbed his hands together, stepping closer to Harry, "Let's see what we're working with, shall we?"

Moving over to the counter, Ollivander withdrew a measuring tape. "Which is your wand arm?"

Harry raised his right arm, staying quiet. The tape sprung from Ollivander's hand and immediately started measuring his arm length, circumference, distance between fingertips and wrist, width of shoulders, his overall height, and on it went.

"What was your last wand made of?" The older man asked as he turned and started running his fingers over the stacks of wands.

"My first wand was made of holly and phoenix feather," Harry answered. Ollivander glanced at him, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Once again, that does not answer my question, does it? I asked what your last wand was made of, not your first...especially since by calling it your first you imply there have been wands since."

Harry just responded with a lip twist and Ollivander huffed a not quite completely aggravated breath but definitely getting there.

"Well I suppose we'll just have to see what we end up with then, won't we?" he asked rhetorically before turning back to the stacks, snapping his fingers and stopping the measuring tape from trying to measure the length of his toenails through his shoes.

Harry turned slightly to watch the people bustling on the street beyond the window, looking through the dust floating in a warm golden stream of sunlight bathing the floor of the shop. He wasn't entirely sure what his plan was here. His first stop - Gringotts, as always - was taken care of. No matter what world or timeline he ended up in Gringotts always had the vault. Even the worlds where the was no Gringotts, there were always Goblins and somewhere amongst their tunnels there was the vault. Goblins, at their core, were a warrior race and held Death as both an honour and a foe. As such their race had an instinctual understanding of all things Death and responded to him with both awe and fear. He generally did his best to avoid going to the Goblins unless necessary so as to not disrupt their normal routine. 

"Here, try this. Holly and dragon heartstring, twelve inches." Harry away from the window to see Ollivander holding out a light coloured wand, handle first, towards him.

Reaching his hand towards it, his hand got half a foot away from it before he felt his magic react violently, twisting and writhing in disgust. Calmly lowering his hand, Harry turned to the old man, "No. Not that one."

Ollivander gaped for a second. Never before had he had a customer reject a wand before even touching it. Squinting at the dark haired man in front of him he nodded his head and turned to replace the wand and find another.

Harry once again returned to his musing. He supposed he'd have find a place to stay. He should probably check in on the Potters as well just to ensure that Lily Potter was indeed pregnant with the unborn Harry Potter. He sighed. Whether or not he decided to get involved with the war this time around was the real question. And if he did, what side would he support? He needed to do some more background. The first time he lived in this time he had been a child. Unprepared, scared, and manipulated by powers and players far beyond his ken. Coming into the situation from a - _mostly_ \- independent standpoint allowed for more options. He was distracted once more by Ollivander returning with another wand - birch and harpy toe-scale, nine and three quarter inches this time. Rejecting it once again, Harry decided to turn his focus towards to old wand maker and figure out his next step afterwards.

* * *

Gripping his new wand in his right hand Harry exited the wand shop, seeing Ollivander continuing to watch him with curious, suspicious eyes from the window. Thirteen and a quarter inches, dementor bone and thestral heartstring. After going through nearly the entire stock of wands available at the front, and _all_ of the...shall we say _less socially acceptable_ wands in the back, Ollivander retrieved five different wands from a deep, high security, storage cellar under the store. All of them made of rather questionable materials and one finally responded. Leaving a severely shaken Ollivander after paying an exorbitant amount for the wand and a wrist holster Harry finally began his search for a place to stay many hours after beginning his day. Having spent nearly ten hours with the wandmaker Harry was anxious to be able to just sit down and relax and figure out his next few steps.

Standing in place for a moment looking into the sky that was turning to a reddish orange Harry finally turned on the spot disapperating with a quiet _crack_.

* * *

Reappearing in a dirty alley, Harry stood still for a moment, evaluating his surroundings. Knockturn Alley and its surrounding areas had never been the cleanest of places but Harry definitely felt more at home in the darker atmosphere, not to mention the lack of intrusive questions. There was an unspoken rule of anonymity in the area. No one asked names and no one paid attention to strange mannerisms or actions.

Harry left the narrow alley and emerged between two shop fronts; one a small apothecary and the other a nondescript building that was likely a pub or bar. Turning to his right, Harry walked past the apothecary and headed further into Knockturn District, winding through dark cloaked figures and taking several turns down less busy streets. Harry finally stopped in front of a building that was made up of rather run down apartments. The _Vacancy_ sign in the window looked old and cracked from sunlight and dirt, resting on the inner window sill and leaning back against the dark curtains drawn closed behind it. The crumbling dark red brick became lighter the higher it went on the building, becoming a medium brown by the time it reached the roof, five stories up. Whether the colour change was simply from not as much light reaching the bottom due to the close proximity of the surrounding buildings or from the blood of back street scuffles and unsavoury encounters throughout the years soaking into the bottom levels he couldn't tell. The smell of damp pavement and copper and sweet rot however led him to suspect the latter. Unbothered, Harry opened the dark green, scuffed metal door with a creak of rusted hinges, allowing the smell of unwashed sweat and years of mice infestations to drown out the smell of the street.

Moving over to a small chest high counter to the left of the door that swung shut behind him with a heavy clang that left the entry in very dim lighting, Harry rang the small tarnished silver bell on the counter and waited. Less than a minute later a wooden door behind the the counter opened revealing a greasy looking man who stepped up to the counter. Brushing his shoulder length mousy brown hair out of his dark brown eyes, the man wiped the grease residue from his hair on his threadbare grey robes and placed both thin, long fingered, calloused hands on the counter and looked up.

"What d'ya want?" The smell of old whisky and unbrushed teeth wafted from the man's mouth as he spoke and Harry kept his face blank.

"Your sign says you have a vacancy," he said as he gestured over his shoulder to where the sign was hidden by the closed curtain on the window.

"Ya. Ya want it?"

"Please."

The man looked at him for a moment before harrumphing, "Rent's due on the first e'ry month. Ya pay upfront for this month and next month now. No meals, housecleanin', body disposal, or wolf cages included. There's silencin' spells on all the places but ya might wanna renew 'em. They haven' been redone since the place was built. I ain't responsible for anything bein' stolen or broken into. If ya can't lock it down wit' spells ya better take it wit' ya. There's a vampire tha' lives on the third floor, I'd avoid him if ya wanna keep ya neck intact. Rent is thirty-five Galleons a month. Ya'll be on the fourth floor, room 14C." Harry raised an eyebrow at the man wanting a full month's rent for the two weeks left of this month and the vampire comment but otherwise didn't say anything. "Seventy Galleons and I'll take ya up," the man said holding his hand palm up over the counter. Snorting softly, Harry reached into his robes and withdrew the money pouch, depositing the correct amount onto the counter for the man to scrape with the side of his hand into his own pouch.

Giving him a sleazy smile that showed off his rotting teeth, the man turned and walked around the counter before heading straight up the stairs that were across from the door with Harry following behind. Eight flights of stairs later the man turned to the right and headed down the hall. Stopping before the last door on the left the man turned to him, "Well here ya go. Remember to put ya own wards up." With that the man waved his wand at the door, removing the standard locking spells and opening the area to a new ward caster. Tucking his wand away, the man turned and head back down the hall towards the stairs and Harry turned towards the dark brown wood door with a scratched and tarnished bronze 14C hanging at eye level. Glancing around the hall once more, Harry opened the door and stepped into the apartment. 

Closing the door softly behind himself, Harry looked around. He had stepped into what appeared to be a living room/kitchenette combination with the living area to his right and the kitchenette area to his left. There was a mid sized window on the right hand wall and a threadbare couch facing the kitchen. A small battered coffee table sat in front of the couch with an equally distressed arm chair facing the coffee table against the back wall. To the left was a counter that ran from the wall with the entrance door to the back wall with various cupboards along the top and bottom. A small sink and stove split the counter into thirds and what he assumed would be a cupboard with cooling and preservation charms ran floor to ceiling in the far corner. A small rickety table with two chairs sat in the centre of the area and directly to the left of the entrance door was a spindly coat tree. Along the back wall were two doors that when he poked his head into led to the bedroom on the right and the bathroom on the left.

Moving back to the middle of the room between the coffee table and the kitchen table he drew his wand and began casting wards to repel, attack, guard, and alert him of anybody or anything trying to enter other than himself. Content for the moment, Harry headed back towards the bedroom. Entering, he saw a small chest height dresser against the left wall, a window directly in front of him, and a double bed that looked ready to collapse against the right wall with a small bedside table on the far side of the bed. Stripping down to his boxers, Harry left his clothes in a pile to the right of the door, not caring enough to do anything about them at the moment.

Eyeing the bed for the moment with suspicion, he tossed a couple of cleaning, repairing, and strengthening charms at it before tossing his new wand on the bedside table and flopping ungracefully, face first on the bed, fully intending to sleep for a week. The sudden crash and ensuing screaming and arguing that suddenly sounded from the the next apartment over reached his ears and he begrudgingly cracked his eyes enough to glare at the wall before lifting his hand and waving it, casting the strongest silencing spell he could. Sighing as the noise stopped his eyes once again closed and he dropped into an uneasy sleep, thoughts of what he should do next circling round and round.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Six days after arriving Harry decided on his course of action. He had slept for an entire day after silencing the apartment and when he woke he spent the next three days confirming that things were as he thought and determining what the various "big players" in the war were currently doing.

He had checked in on the Potters and found that they were indeed under the Fidelius and Lily Potter was indeed very pregnant. Seeing the people who both were and yet _are_ not his parents was strange. He had expected to feel either happy or sad or even melancholy, but he had felt nothing. They were strangers to him. He was not their child in this world and he had never known them in his. Seeing Snape leaving the house after visiting Lily in person to warn her again was interesting. As he had left the house Dumbledore had shown up. He did not go in to see the Potters, he seemed to only be there to reprimand Snape for showing up. It was odd.

Checking in on the Dark Lord had shown the man to be planning raids and take-overs and mayhem. Other than his strange obsession with the prophecy, Harry didn't see any sign of the pervasive insanity that had defined the man that he knew before. 

Albus Dumbledore was, as expected, the Headmaster of Hogwarts as well as holding several high up political positions that, along with directing the Order of the Phoenix, he was using to try to combat Voldemort and his followers.

Overall, things were exactly as Harry had expected. Therefore...he felt no need to get involved. His major game plan was to simply continue on as he was and try to keep as low a profile as possible in order to hopefully avoid _certain attentions_ for as long as possible. 

Mind made up, he had spent the morning wandering through both Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley searching for a few specific supplies he would need to create the rune stones he would need if he hoped to remain unnoticed for as long as possible. They weren't a permanent solution, but then, there was no permanent solution. Finding most things but the whispering whitesnake scales for the potion to cure the stones in, he headed to Hogsmeade to the small specialty apothecary there that specialized in rare and unusual ingredients, hoping he'd be able to find what he needed.

Appearing in front of The Three Broomsticks with a small _crack_ he headed towards the end of the main street before turning onto a lesser known path. Walking through the more residential area, interspersed with the odd shop here or there, he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his black slacks, the black outer robe pushed back behind his wrists and elbows and swaying with soft brushing sounds with his footsteps. Finding the storefront he was looking for he opened the door and stepped in with the sound of the small door bell tinkling above his head. The overwhelming smell of herbs and formaldehyde filled his nose as he headed towards the counter. 

He had just slowed to a halt at the desk when a middle aged woman with straw blonde hair pulled back in a twist, wearing soft lilac robes stepped out of the back.

"Hello dear, what can I do for you?" she inquired with a pleasant smile, corners of her eyes crinkling.

"Hello, I'm wondering if you have any whispering whitesnake scales in stock?"

She hummed for a moment, brow furrowing as she turned back to the rear door, "Just give me a moment dear, I'll take a look."

Harry nodded, "No problem, I've been all over looking for them. Take your time."

Harry turned to wander the store while she searched. Drifting over to the far right side of the store he was bent over, examining the titanium paring knives when he heard the little door bell tinkle. Glancing up he saw the tall dark form of the Hogwarts potions master enter the shop. Black eyes met his and he gave a brief nod of acknowledgement before turning back to the knives. Hearing the man's footsteps moving around to the far side by the scarab beetles, Harry grabbed two of the knives before moving back to the counter just as the shopkeep returned from the back carrying a small glass bottle full of small white scales. 

"Oh! Hello Severus! I've got your supply order in the back. Just let me finish up with Mr. -" She looked at Harry inquiringly.

"Lekhoba," he responded evenly.

She smiled lightly and nodded, "Yes, once I'm finished with Mr. Lekhoba here I'll go grab it."

"No rush, Madame Ruskan," the man's dry voice responded.

"Oh Severus! You know I've told you to call me Suzanne!"

"Of course Madame Ruskan."

She snorted before shaking her head and turning a long suffering look at Harry before saying conspiratorially, "Severus here has been coming into my shop for nigh on fifteen years now and he's never once called me anything but Madame Ruskan _despite_ my best efforts."

Harry lips twitched just a bit at the clearly fond relationship the two had, and the clearly exasperated witch.

She shot one more glance at Snape as he turned back to the beetles he had been looking at before putting her full attention on Harry. "Now Mr. Lekhoba, I don't have a lot. I don't get many requests for whispering whitesnake scales. How much do you need?"

"Two pounds."

She looked up startled, "Two pounds! My goodness, that would cost you a small fortune! What in Merlin's name are you making that needs two pounds of whitesnake scales?"

Harry, who's lips had had a small curl during the back and forth between Snape and Madame Ruskan immediately lost the small sign of contentment, returning to a blank expression. "It's a personal project," he stated flatly, implying no leeway for further questioning on the topic.

Madame Ruskan looked slightly startled and taken aback at the abrupt change in attitude but mustered up a smile anyway, though her eyes showed her sudden uneasiness, "Well," she cleared her throat, "I only have about twelve ounces right now but I can have the rest ordered in by Thursday. You'd have to pay upfront because of the quantity, but if you'd like I can place the order now."

"Please," he said with a small nod.

She nodded as well before turning to grab an order sheet that already had several items listed, likely stock supplies for the shop. He watched as she marked down two pounds of the required ingredient before turning back to him.

"Alright dear, was there anything but the scales you needed?"

Harry placed the two knives he had grabbed on the counter, "These as well."

"Perfect. Okay dear, your total is four hundred and forty-three Galleons and six Sickles."

Harry nodded and withdrew his pouch. Touching his wand lightly to the side, saying the exact amount he turned the pouch upside down over the small counting tray she had set on the counter. The tray flashed blue and Madame Ruskan smiled up at him that the exact amount had been dropped.

Replacing the pouch in his inner robe as Madame Ruskan deposited the coins into a safe under the counter.

"Thank you Madame Ruskan," Harry said as she finished bundling up his new knives in a leather wrap before handing it over.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Lekhoba. Your order will be ready for pickup by Thursday morning, so come by anytime after that."

"You'll see me Thursday morning then. Have a pleasant day." Harry tucked the knives into an inner pocket of his robes before turning to leave. Seeing Snape standing off to the side, not even pretending to not be watching him, Harry nodded to him briefly, "Good day to you as well, Mr. Snape." Striding out the door he promptly turned on the spot and disappeared leaving both the shopkeep and potions master staring at the door.

Shaking her head as though to clear it of the strange mood that the encounter had left her with, Suzanne turned to Severus, "Just give me a quick moment dearie and I'll grab your order." Seeing the man nod his head, though he continued to look towards the door, she turned to head into the back to grab his supplies.

* * *

Severus was brooding. And curious. And suspicious. None of those things ever boded well and now he was doing all three. It was strange. He had asked Madame Ruskan about the man after he had left and she swore she had never seen him before though she said he had said he had been all over looking for the snake scales before coming there so she hypothesized that he normally visited other apothecaries.

Even so, he pondered, whispering whitesnake scales weren't necessarily a _restricted_ ingredient in the sense that they required certain permissions to acquire them but that was only because they were so expensive that most people were unable to afford them in the first place. Not to mention, there were very few potions that required their use and every one of them was extremely rare, and rather dubious in nature.

And the man himself. Severus was positive he had never seen him before and he had certainly never heard the name Lekhoba before. A strange person coming out of nowhere buying mass quantities of borderline restricted ingredients raised all kinds of red flags in Severus' mind.

Other than the brief "good day" he had offered Severus, the man had not spoken to him at all, though the short conversation he had held with Madame Ruskan had been enough that Severus had been able to detect a faint accent. It wasn't strong and he couldn't for the life of him place where it might have originated from, but it was there; a kind of rasping undertone.

Lekhoba had been unusually tall as well. Severus was generally the tallest or one of the tallest people in any given room, standing at six foot, seven inches. Yet this man had been at least two inches taller than himself. The almost unhealthily pale skin on Lekhoba also managed to give Severus a run for his money, though admittedly, Severus had more of a sallow tone than the visibly blue veined white of the other man. Longish black hair that just brushed his shoulders and feathered around his face, thick streaks of pure white at his temples, with the greenest eyes he had ever seen. Severus had always thought that Lily had the greenest eyes but in comparison Lily's fell far short. The high, angular cheekbones and sharp jaw hinted at pureblood ancestry but nothing about the man's appearance or mannerisms in any way reminded Severus of any of the pureblood families he was aware of.

Lekhoba was a mystery, and for a man like Severus whose very life depended on knowing more information than any other being in the room it was beyond aggravating. 

Sighing, Severus took a large sip of the whiskey in his glass, slowly rotating it afterwards, watching as the light from the fire in the hearth refracted through the amber liquid and cut crystal tumbler. Leaning back further into his armchair, the only light in the room coming from the hearth, Severus contemplated his next action. Lekhoba intrigued him. Concerned him, and yet also interested him. He knew he should probably take this information straight to Dumbledore...realistically he should probably also tell the Dark Lord, lest someone else tell him first, but...he didn't want to. He wanted to keep the mystery to himself for a while. Something to ponder and turn over and question that had nothing to do with where his loyalties may or may not lay, nothing to do with the war, nothing to do with anything but his own curiosity.

Groaning softly to himself, he drained the glass and stood, making his way to the fireplace. Reaching into the little pot that sat on the mantle, grasping the handful of sparkling black powder. Throwing the powder down into the fire, he called out his destination before stepping swiftly into the flare of green flames.

* * *

Thursday found Harry apperating into Hogsmeade once again, seven days after placing his order with Madame Ruskan. He had nearly everything complete for the rune stones and he was getting progressively more anxious without their, admittedly not perfect but somewhat effective, protection. The stones had been chosen, cut, and engraved with the appropriate runes. The ritual circle had been chalked down onto the basement floor of a muggle country house he had purchased for this purpose alone; the ritual would destroy the property beyond repair. The necessary spells had been cast on both himself and the stones. And the metal bands had been created from a mixture of pure silver and his own magic. The only thing left was the potion that was already brewed, sitting under a stasis charm until he could get his hands on the final ingredient, to be used as the binder.

Moving quickly towards the small apothecary, Harry had to force himself not to slam the door open in his haste, instead opening it calmly and walking through into the pungent air within. Harry's heart stopped for a second as he caught sight of a tall figure in black robes out of the corner of his eye. Stiffening and turning slightly he relaxed again releasing an inaudibly shaky breath as he realized it was just Snape. Turning his attention back to the counter as his heart rate returned to a normal rhythm he made his way to the front just as Madame Ruskan walked out of the back carrying a large box of what appeared to be bezoars.

"Oh! Hello dearie, you're early. I just opened up. Just give me a second to put these down and I'll go grab your scales. They came in just last night."

Harry nodded to her and turned to glance at Snape who was standing off to the side with his arms folded across his chest, looking at him. Harry looked back and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you, Mr. Snape?"

"I certainly hope so. Pray tell...who exactly are you Mr. Lekhoba? You've come from out of nowhere, no one seems to know you or has ever seen you before two weeks ago when you suddenly appeared in Diagon Alley. Nobody can even tell me your name. So. Who are you? Where did you come from? And what is your purpose?"

Harry snorted, his lips curling at the corners, "Is that all, Mr. Snape? Are you sure you don't wish to ask my blood type or if I prefer boxers or briefs while you're at it?"

Snape flushed. Just the lightest of pink hues dusted across his cheekbones but Harry took it for the point to him that it was.

"Mr. Lekhoba, you showed up out of nowhere in the middle of a war. No one actively moves to a war zone unless they have a motive. So, I'll ask again. _Why_ are you here?"

"To pick up my potions ingredients, Mr. Snape. Considering you were here when I placed the order I would have assumed you could have put two and two together to get four. As to who I am, you've used my name several times now so I feel you have your answer there. Where I came from is quite frankly none of your business and I don't particularly see why it matters anyway." Harry saw Madame Ruskan coming out of the back holding a medium sized box full of glass jars containing of the whispering whitesnake scales out of the corner of his eye, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a potion waiting on me." Walking briskly over to the counter, Harry picked up the box, thanked the shopkeep and turned to the door and called over his shoulder, "It was a pleasure doing business with you Madame Ruskan. Mr. Snape, I hope you have a good day and can find someone else to satisfy your boundless curiosity."

Harry stepped into the open air and disapperated.

* * *

A _crack_ split through the air of the countryside, startling several birds and small rodents, sending them fleeing in all directions. Paying no mind to the animals Harry swiftly carried the box of whitesnake scales into the old country home and down into the cellar where everything was set up. Moving over to the four bubbling cauldrons sitting on the large marble work surface he had transfigured days ago. Setting the box down he carefully removed the jars and brought out several bowls and his scale. Precisely measuring half a pound of scales into each bowl, Harry removed the stasis spell on all of the cauldrons. Without pausing he waved his wand and all four bowls simultaneously dumped their contents into all four cauldrons. The room quickly filled with steam, billowing and swirling around the room.

Having waited five minutes for the steam to clear Harry quickly grabbed the five bands of silver and dropped them into the first cauldron. Reaching over to a separate table off to the side, he grabbed the shallow dish that held the thirty small black obsidian stones that he had painstakingly prepared and dumped them all into the second cauldron. Waiting a few moments more he waved his hand and the liquid of the first two cauldrons vanished, leaving behind the five silver bands and the small black stones at the bottom of their individual cauldrons. Reaching in to the first with just his magic, he levitated the silver bands in front of himself. The small stones came next. Five small stones surrounded each of the bands, minus the fifth, slightly larger band that had ten stones circling it. 

Pushing more of his magic through the stones and bands than ever before, the stones slowly started to merge with their respective bands; seemingly almost melting into the silver instead of retaining their shape, giving the silver a marbled look as black veins spread throughout them. When the two materials had completely merged Harry let them drop with a clang to the tabletop as he dropped to his knees in exhaustion. He always somehow forgot how hard it was on his magic to try to force to opposing materials to become one.

Taking a few deep breaths he shakily rose to his feet and grabbed a large glass and a clay pitcher. Ladling the glass full to the brim from the third cauldron he then filled the pitcher from the fourth. Walking over to the far side of the room where the chalked out runes of the ritual circle were prepared on the ground he placed the glass and the pitcher down and went back for the metal and stone bands.

Quickly stripping everything he could, he shivered in the cool air of the room. Stepping into the centre of the circle he bent over to slowly slide one of the smaller bands over each foot where they rested loosely around his ankles. Doing the same with the other two smaller bands around his wrists he paused looking at the last band. Reaching up slowly with his left hand he stroked his fingers softly against his throat, feeling smooth skin abruptly be covered by hard stone before trailing down to smooth skin again. No. He had to do this. Last time he had only done four. The time before only two. Each time he would get a longer and longer reprieve. If he could block the call altogether theoretically he could disappear forever. Taking a deep shaking breath, Harry slid the last band over his head and around his neck, feeling it rest heavily on his collar bones with more weight than it physically had.

Going carefully to his knees, he winced at the cold, hard bite of the stone floor against his joints before reaching out and grabbing the glass of potion; draining it swiftly in several gulps, swallowing repeatedly afterwards in an attempt to keep from throwing it back up. Closing his eyes momentarily to gather his wits before he began the last part. Minutely more grounded than he had been, Harry opened his eyes and picked up the pitcher of the fourth potion. Beginning the chant with a measured rhythmic cadence that slowly got faster and faster as he poured the potion over his head, ensuring that it completely covered every inch of himself and the five bands, not even a single part not coated. When the pitcher was empty he tossed it outside of the circle, not particularly caring where it landed as he was rapidly coming to the end of the chant which he knew would knock him unconscious as soon as the magic took hold.

As the last syllable left his lip he seized, back arching, fingers and toes curling in on themselves, face a rictus of silent agony. They magic pulsed, swelling with each beat of his heart, until seconds later it exploded outwards, destroying the house around him and everything in a quarter mile radius.

Harry felt the chill anger, the sudden motion, the rage before it all suddenly stopped. Harry laughed a laugh that was reserved for those insane or hysterical and was unsure which category he fell into but didn't really care either way. As he cackled to himself uncontrollably he felt the exhaustion hit. So, as the groaning timbers of the old farmhouse around him finally gave way and collapsed down to bury him and everything else he couldn't help but release a few more tired chuckles. The blackness closed in long before the first piece hit the ground. When the house finally stopped tearing itself apart and was nothing but rubble there was no life left anywhere within the quarter mile that the magic scoured. 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Severus Snape was not a patient man at heart. True, he had waited long periods before for things he wanted, but that did not mean he enjoyed it. And so, although he hadn't truly expected too much to come of his direct questioning of Lekhoba, he was still pissed that he hadn't gotten more.

He had gone back to the apothecary this morning to wait for Lekhoba to show up and he didn't have to wait long. Having only been there for less than five minutes when the man strode in, looking to be in a hurry. His brief attempt at interrogation had gained him next to nothing and he had ended up leaving shortly after purchasing the first thing he had grabbed so that Madame Ruskan would not question his presence.

Standing from his armchair, Severus grabbed his long black over robe and headed to the fireplace once again. Grabbing his handful of floo powder, he tossed it down and stepped into the green flames, emerging seconds later in the Headmasters office, he flicked his wand to remove any soot that may have settled on his robes.

Moving forward and taking a seat in front of the large, ornate oak desk, he waited for the Headmaster to look away from the piece of paper he was perusing.

"Ah Severus my boy," Albus said, placing the paperwork to the side and folding his hands on the desk in front of him, "How did it go?"

"Unsuccessful, Headmaster," Severus replied shortly. "We have no more information now than we did a week ago, except now he knows that people have been asking about him."

The Headmaster hummed, glancing towards Fawkes who was resting on his perch with his head tucked under his wing. "And have you come to any conclusions about what he may be using such a large quantity of a restricted ingredient for?"

Biting back the urge to go into a long correction about the restricted status of the whispering whitesnake scales, or rather, the lack of such a classification, Severus shook his head. "No. I have already listed the various potions that could possibly be made using the scales and none of those call for such quantities. My assumption is that he is either storing them for later use, though I doubt that given his urgency in acquiring them, or has created a potion for an unknown use that has never been published. What purpose such a potion may have I couldn't say."

"That is rather troubling, my boy. And you've heard nothing more about who he is or why he's here?"

"No, Headmaster. Nobody knows who he is or where he came from. Nobody's even sure where he is staying. Either he has an Unplottable home or he's living somewhere where questions are not asked. From what I've observed of him I really couldn't say which one it is." 

Albus leaned back in his chair, stroking his long white beard. "And the Death Eaters and Dark Lord know nothing about him?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I haven't heard anything about Lekhoba from them but I also haven't asked. I didn't want to bring any attention to him if they are not already aware of his presence."

"And you're sure of what you felt? His magical presence was that strong?"

"Yes. I couldn't say how strong exactly but the fact that he seemed to have the majority of it reined in tightly spoke of a lot of power he didn't wish to be noticed. I would have taken him for an average, or even below average, wizard after the first meeting but once I was looking for it, it was there." Severus couldn't stop the small hairs on his arms raising just talking about the power the man held. What he hadn't told Albus was how overwhelmingly dark Lekhoba's magic had been. He had always thought the Dark Lord had the darkest magic but in direct competition it was like comparing a candle lit room to the deepest depths of the ocean. Severus' own magic had been practically purring when Lekhoba got close enough for their auras to brush against each other.

"We should do our best to bring him over to our side before the Dark finds out about him. If it's true that the Dark is not currently aware of him then we should prioritize it staying that way. That kind of power could be invaluable in the war and we can't afford to have him be swayed to the other side." Albus was hoping that the man would be able to be brought into their confidence, possibly even joining the Order once he had proven trustworthy. He was still concerned by the fact that Lekhoba was apparently a social ghost who dabbled around with Dark potions but he was sure that as strong as his magic was it would be no match for Albus' if it really came down to it. "Keep an eye out and try to get close to Lekhoba. Bring him here as soon as possible. I would like to speak to Lekhoba myself to see if he'll be receptive to supporting the Light. Use whatever means necessary, give him whatever he wants to tie him to us. I'm sure either yourself or Marion Yelter will be to his tastes."

Severus had to repress the sudden surge of disgust that swept through him. The unconcerned way that Albus just offered up Severus' own and another's body to the sexual whims of a stranger as nothing but a way to tie the person down repulsed him. Not to say that he didn't find Lekhoba attractive, because he did, but Albus didn't know that. And Yelter had never even met the man. Severus wasn't even sure if Albus had informed the rest of the Order about Lekhoba yet. He was also quite sure that Yelter had something of a relationship in the works at the moment. He had noticed a shiny bracelet she had never worn before adorning her wrist and small purple marks on the sides of her neck at the last meeting. The complete disregard for personal choice reminded him of the Dark Lord in ways that made him question his choice to ever serve either of the powerful men. Albus and the Dark Lord were just two sides of the same coin. "I do not know if I will ever cross paths with him again. I only came across him because he was looking for a particularly hard to find ingredient. I have not been able to find a trace of him anywhere else and now that he has what he needs I wouldn't be surprised if we never see him again."

Albus straightened and turned a serious gaze on the potions master. "That is not acceptable. I'm sure if you look hard enough he'll turn up. And you're quite capable of brewing a tracking potion."

Severus refrained from reminding the Headmaster that such potions were illegal for use by any other than law enforcement aurors who had a warrant. "Those potions require either a full name or, preferably, hair or blood of the person being searched for. I do not even know his first name, let alone his full name."

"I will look into at least finding his name. You get to work on brewing the potion to the appropriate stage," Albus paused and looked the tall, dark haired man up and down, "and perhaps invest in some nice robes...for a good impression."

Severus once again felt the roiling disgust under his skin like a physical slime coating his insides but nodded nonetheless before standing, "Good day, Headmaster."

* * *

Maliu Lekhoba. That was the best they had managed to find. It had taken two weeks for the Headmaster to find even that much. After having feelers out among all of Albus' various spies and contacts he had finally spoken to Ollivander. Apparently Lekhoba had gone to the wandmaker's shop that first day in Diagon Alley to get a wand and had made quite the impression on the old man. The wandmaker had been incredibly tight lipped about the encounter, refusing to tell the Headmaster any conversation details or what the man's wand had been made of, but he had been willing to give his name. 

A first and last name was all they had to work with. It was more than they had had before but it was still questionable if the potion would work with so little.

Severus took a deep breath before dropping the small slip of parchment that had the name written on it into the simmering cauldron.

If it worked, the potion should turn blue and spark. If it didn't work, it would turn orange and bubble. Holding his breath he watched the potion as the paper broke down and swirled into the depths of purple liquid. The potion slowly started to spark and change colour and his heart quickened with the anticipation of being able to finally get some answers when it suddenly flared with a bright flash of green light before immediately stilling, revealing a thick black ooze, shining like oil.

Severus sat back on the stool he was perched on, slightly dumbfounded. What was that? That wasn't even one of the possible options it should have gone through. Unable to understand what had gone wrong he reached out with a stirring rod and poked the now quiescent potion. The rod immediately began to dissolve from where the potion touched it and he dropped it, jumping back from the table as the slight hissing of the dissolving iron faded away and the potion returned to being still. Wide eyed he slowly approached the cauldron, hesitantly looking over the brim. Unsure of what to do now he slowly raised his wand. Pausing for a moment, he quickly took several steps backward and raised a shield, just in case, and sent a banishing charm at the innocuous looking sludge. To his great relief it disappeared after one more bright flash of green, taking the cauldron with it and leaving black scorch marks on the tabletop.

Taking a shaky breath and releasing it slowly, lowering his wand arm to his side. Deciding to leave the lab and make his way back into his living quarters he grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was resting above the mantle and filled the tumbler on the end table almost to the brim before slumping into his usual chair and taking a large swig, relishing in the burn as it went down. There were just too many things going wrong lately. First Lekhoba showed up out of nowhere, then the Headmaster demanded he investigate the man, Albus had all but ordered him to whore himself out to the stranger in order to gain his support once found, demanded he brew illegal potions, and now the potions themselves were not cooperating. This all was not including the fiasco with the Potters a few weeks back. 

* * *

He had been just about to go to sleep when Poppy firecalled him in a panic on the evening of July 31st, demanding he come to Godric's Hollow with his emergency potions kit. Groaning he quickly threw his robe on and grabbed his kit before flooing to the Leaky Cauldron and disapperating to the Fidelius hidden house. Entering, he immediately stopped grumbling and sprinted up the stairs as he heard Lily's scream.

Upstairs he threw open the partially closed door that the commotion was coming from to find Lily writhing on the bed, a sheen of sweat dripping down her face, blood soaked sheets twisted around and pushed to the end of the bed. James Potter was standing to the side of the bed, white as a sheet, wringing his hands, and looking about to collapse. Poppy Pomphrey was bent over Lily, waving her wand rapidly, muttering spells under her breath. Stopping for just a moment she turned to Severus, "Severus! Good, you're here. She needs two level two blood replenishers, a level seven pain relief draught, a level six calming draught, and a dreamless sleep."

Severus looked up at her sharply from where he had been pulling the required potions from the bag. A dreamless sleep potion was never used during labour. They were too strong to be used on any pregnant woman or child below the age of ten, having the risk of slowing the child's heart and brain activity to the point of death. In an infant it would be a sure death sentence. The only exception was if the fetus was already dead. To spare the mother of having to go through the pain of labour only to see a dead child be brought forth from within her, a dreamless sleep was often administered allowing the mother rest while the attending medi-wizards and witches could go about removing the stillborn with magic that would be unsafe if the child was alive. 

Seeing Potter glancing between him and the medi-witch with a confused expression, clearly unaware of the implications of such a request, he quickly smoothed his face and handed over the requested vials. Poppy moved up to the head of the bed and gently braced Lily's head, shushing her cries and holding the vial of dreamless sleep to her lips. "Here you go dear. Drink this. You're doing so well. We're almost finished." 

Severus watched as the redhead swallowed the potion and began to droop, falling into a magic fuelled sleep. Her muscles still twitching every so often from the residual strain of her previous thrashing. Poppy quickly coaxed her throat into swallowing the remaining potions, minus the calming draught which she set on the bedside table to be administered after Lily woke.

Moving back to Lily's swollen stomach, the medi-witch began the spells that would bring the unborn corpse out in a manner that was painless and safe for the mother. Severus quickly moved to a chair in the corner of the room and grabbed one of the throw blankets that rested over the back. Returning to Poppy's side, he kept half an eye on Potter's form that was half slumped against the wall, watching the proceedings with dazed eyes. His full attention returned back to Poppy's actions as a small, still form slowly began to form on the bed between Lily's spread legs; the circumference of her belly slowly diminishing as the magic took the fetus cell by cell and transported it to outside her womb, reforming to its original shape. Severus moved slightly to be sure his and Poppy's bodies fully blocked Potter's view of what was happening. Once the child was fully formed on the bed Severus took over casting cleaning charms over the small body while Poppy continued her spell with slightly different wording to ensure the placenta was fully removed from the womb as well. By the time she had finished and was vanishing the blood, placenta, and other fluids from the bed, covering Lily gently with a sheet, Severus had gently wrapped the tiny dark haired form in the throw blanket he had grabbed.

Poppy stood up straight for a moment, not moving except to brush a few grey hairs out of her face that had fallen loose from the tight bun at the back of her head, a somber look on her usually stern but genial features. Turning, she gave a small nod of thanks to Severus and he handed her the stillborn child. Reaching into his kit for another strong calming draught he moved over to Potter, hesitating a few feet away from him.

Looking into the man's still dazed eyes he swallowed down his years of resentment and stepped towards him, watching as confusion slowly entered the other man's eyes as one of his least favourite people stood in front of him with no sign of the usual antagonism and hate that was generally present when the two were in the same room. Reaching out his hand with the small glass bottle, Severus waited for Potter to grab it, "Drink." Potter didn't move, looking between the potion now in his own hand and Severus' dark eyes. "Drink it. It's just a calming draught."

"Why?"

Severus sighed, "I'm sorry for your loss, Potter. I wouldn't wish this on anyone." Severus turned and walked past Poppy who was just heading towards Potter with the small blanket wrapped bundle in her arms. Giving a brief nod at the medi-witch and a quick glance back at Lily's still sleeping form he made his way from the room and down the stairs. He was just opening the front door when he heard the muffled sound of deep wrenching sobs and cries of denial coming from upstairs and the soft murmur of Poppy's voice being drowned out by the emotional agony being shown by one of his most hated. Stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind him, cutting the sounds off, he spun on the spot, heading back to his quarters in Hogwarts. What he had said to Potter had been true. He may hate the man with a burning passion but he truly would not wish that kind of pain on anyone.

As he settled himself in bed, noxing the lights, he couldn't help but feel his own heart ache for the sake of his childhood best friend. 

* * *

Harry stood naked in the little bathroom of his apartment in front of a floor length mirror he had conjured. Carefully, he unwound his magic from where he had it wrapped tightly around his core, allowing it to creep out and brush the walls, exploring the surrounding area. Examining his newest additions his lips curled briefly. The black-veined silver bands were flush with his skin, leaving no room for anything beneath. The sealing ritual magic had made sure they would not come off easily. The band on his left wrist flashed dully with the dim reflected light of the room as he raised his fingers to brush his throat. Stepping closer to the mirror to more carefully examine the two bands that rested around his neck his lips curled slightly again.

The silver and black band was, like the others, tight against his skin, being a discernible restriction when he breathed deeply or swallowed, resting underneath a solid band of black stone that weighed heavily around his neck. The original onyx collar was made of rough cut stone was covered in carved runes with a large engraved symbol right in the front. The Deathly Hallows. Fingers brushing lightly against the triangle, circle, and line of the symbol, his lips curled just a bit more into the twisted thing he passed for a smile. The silver band was just slightly wider, just barely visible over the top and bottom edge of the onyx, but much flatter, than the other band, allowing it to block the stone ring from touching his skin.

After waking up underneath the rubble of the farmhouse six days after the ritual, he had dug himself out and returned to his apartment before coming to inspect his work. He had high hopes for this version. He had added new runes to the stones that had melded to the silver bands and had added the neck band as something entirely new. He could feel the power thrumming through the combined cuffs and believed that even if they weren't permanent, they would hold far longer than any previous attempt.

Redressing slowly in just his black slacks and black silk button down shirt, leaving the robe in his room and his feet bare, he wandered out into the small kitchen to brew a cup of tea. 

Settling down at the small rickety table, cradling his cup near his lips, he admired the dull reflections that shifted as he turned his wrist back and forth, content that he had done all he could for the time being.

* * *

After waking up the morning after _the disastrous potion incident_ as he referred to the black, stirring rod eating sludge of the day before, Severus began preparing for another brew. This one was slightly different. It was lesser used as the one he had brewed before would normally give the exact location of the person being searched, once the completed potion was poured over a piece of parchment, and would update in real time, allowing any auror following a suspect to have a constant line of information, no matter how many times the suspect apperated or if he hid behind wards. 

The current potion Severus was preparing would not be poured over parchment, instead it would be consumed by the searcher, allowing them to apperate directly into the sought after person's abode. It did not take into consideration whether or not the person was actually at home, and while it _would_ get the searcher through any wards - unlike the other potion, it _would not_ protect them on the way out. It also would only allow one apperition per dose, so if the searcher was too far away to make the trip in one jump, they would have to stop halfway, brew another dose, and try again.

Praying that this one wouldn't also turn black and eat the table or blow up, Severus held his wand over the softly bubbling azure liquid and spoke the name of the sought, "Maliu Lekhoba." Quickly slashing his wand, Severus cut off the small flame beneath the cauldron and waited two minutes with ever mounting anxiety. When the potion became lighter and lighter until it was almost clear with only the faintest hint of blue he allowed himself a small smile at the success. 

Decanting the liquid into a large potion bottle, Severus stoppered and sealed the bottle with wax to preserve it until the chosen searcher could drink it.

Heading through his living quarters and out the door, he strode up through the dungeon corridors towards the Headmaster's office. This particular potion could have no magical interference once brewed, be that apperition, floo travel, or spells cast.

Arriving before the large gargoyle guardian he uttered, "Lemon drop," with a sneer.

Knocking on the door at the top of the spiral stairs, a soft, "Come on in, Severus," was heard from beyond the door.

"Ah Severus, what can I do for you?"

"The _Invenire Domum_ potion has been completed," Severus took a seat, withdrawing the large bottle and placing it on the desk before him.

The Headmaster looked at the clear, blue potion for a moment before meeting Severus' eyes, "Is there a reason you chose the _Invenire Domum_ and not the _Invenire Hominem_?"

"I brewed the _Invenire Hominem_ first and it was unsuccessful. As you can see, the _Invenire Domum_ was."

Albus hummed. "Very well. Not ideal, but it will have to do. You should take it as soon as possible and return with Lekhoba immediately."

Severus nearly choked. "Excuse me, Headmaster, but I somehow don't think Lekhoba will be willing to just come with anyone who breaks into his home unannounced. I also don't remember volunteering for this job. After our last conversation at the apothecary I doubt he would be very happy to see me."

"Nonsense, Severus. I'm sure you can persuade him. If not, there is always the option of stunning him and portkeying him here." Reaching into his desk, Albus withdrew a quill. "This will bring two people back to this office directly. Whether or not he agrees to come peacefully you will use this to bring you both back."

Feeling the disgust rising again, Severus sneered, "We do not even know if he will be home. For all we know he is out looking for more potions ingredients." 

"Well then, you'll just have to wait for him to return."

Realizing he wasn't going to get out of this, Severus sneered once more before swiping the bottle and quill off the desk and storming out of the office, robe billowing behind him.

* * *

Severus stumbled as he landed in the middle of what appeared to be a small, run down apartment. Glancing around he didn't see any personal belongings except a single empty tea cup resting in a drying rack by the sink.

Feeling the wards around the apartment flickering and licking at him he determined that Lekhoba was not present as he surely would have come running at a foreign presence in his home. Not particularly wanting to intrude on the man's privacy any more than he already had, Severus refrained from snooping around and simply moved over to the threadbare couch by the far right wall. Sitting down and preparing to wait, Severus grabbed one of the copies of the Daily Prophet that were stacked haphazardly on the scratched coffee table. Leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, Severus attempted to banish his thoughts about the strength and darkness of Lekhoba's magic and what he could potentially do with it to random intruders, and opened the newspaper.

* * *

The sudden feeling of his muscles locking up where he was sitting and the cloying, suffocating magic pressing down on him woke Severus abruptly from where he had fallen asleep sitting on Lekhoba's couch.

Desperately wishing he could move for his wand, he looked up at the man standing on the other side of the coffee table staring at him with his arms crossed and a cold look on his face.

" _Why_ are you here?"


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Severus tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat; seeing the angry man in front of him and feeling the razor edge of his magic had Severus cursing Albus eight ways from Sunday internally.

Clearing his throat nervously he tried to speak only for it to come out in a hoarse croak. Dredging up the little moisture left in his mouth he tried again, "I apologize for intruding. I have tried to find you through conventional methods and nothing worked. At the insistence of my employer I took the only option that may prove fruitful."

Lekhoba raised a single eyebrow before snorting and turning on his heel leaving Severus stuck, motionless, to the couch. He pulled off his black over robe and tossed it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and grabbed the single tea cup from the rack on the counter. Pulling the kettle forward from where it was tucked at the back of the counter, Severus watched as Lekhoba filled the kettle from the sink and waved his wand to set it to heat. He waved his wand again and duplicated the tea cup before reaching above the sink into the cupboard to remove a small metal tin from which he measured a scoop of loose tea leaves into each of the cups. Pouring the now steaming water into the cups when the kettle began whistling, Lekhoba turned to him, "Milk or sugar?"

Speechless, Severus just shook his head in the negative. The man nodded slightly before grabbing both cups and making his way back over to Severus and set one cup down on the table in front of him. Taking his own seat in the chair to Severus' right, he briefly pointed his wand and Severus' wand, potions bag, and the portkey flew out of his pockets and floated over to the other side of the room to settle on the counter beside the small stove.

The lock of his muscles suddenly relaxed though he himself did not as the rich, dark magic was still surrounding him, stroking his own magic in an inquisitive way. Able to move once more, Severus slowly reached out, fighting to hide the tremble in his hands at being in the presence of such strong magic, and grabbed the tea cup before leaning back again and taking a small sip.

"So, Mr. Snape. Do tell why exactly your employer has you not only searching for me but using illegal potions to succeed?"

Severus tensed all over again.

"Oh, and while we're at it, which _employer_ exactly sent you? The Headmaster of Hogwarts or the Dark Lord?"

Unable to control the shaking in his hands anymore, Severus quickly placed his cup back on the table and folded his hands tightly in his lap, sitting ramrod straight in direct contrast to Lekhoba who was lounged back in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other, sipping his tea from his left hand while his right rested on the arm of the chair nonchalantly.

Clearing his throat once more he opened and shut his mouth a couple of times, making no noise, unable to believe that he had been reduced to this state. The last time he had been this terrified he had been meeting the Dark Lord for the first time and taking the Dark Mark. "Albus Dumbledore has sent me. As far as I'm aware, the Dark Lord has no knowledge of your presence," not even entertaining the idea of feigning ignorance about the Dark Lord comment.

Lekhoba hummed and turned to stare out the window for a moment. "I suppose he wants you to convince me to join his little club to fight the Dark Lord, no?"

Giving up on trying to figure out how this stranger knew things he shouldn't, Severus decided to just answer all questions completely honestly; he could still feel the man's magic in the air, ready to attack in an instant. "Yes."

"What exactly did he tell you to do?"

"He told me to wait for you. To try to convince you to come to Hogwarts to speak with him about joining the Light side of the war. Told me to stun you and portkey you unwillingly if necessary."

"Hmm and what is he going to try to bribe me with? I know how Dumbledore works, he uses manipulation and guilt to get his way. So what does he want to offer me to secure my support?"

Shuddering lightly at the magic stroking his own, Severus replied, "Me. He offered you me, or if you prefer, one of the female members of the Order, a Marion Yelter."

The raised eyebrow was back as Lekhoba looked at Severus disbelievingly. "You're joking? Did he even ask either of you or did he demand?"

"No. He did not ask. He demanded it of me and I'm not even sure if he has even spoken to Yelter about it yet."

Lekhoba whistled softly under his breath, "What a _lovely_ work environment you must deal with, Mr. Snape."

Despite himself, Severus' lips twitched and a soft snort escaped him at the sarcasm that fairly flooded the room in the last sentence.

"Do you even swing that way? Or has he not even taken that into consideration?"

Picking up his cup again to hide some of his face, letting his hair swing down around his cheeks to hide more of the blush that was creeping up, "I do not know if the Headmaster is aware of my preferences, but I do indeed prefer the company of my own gender." Sipping more from the tea cup, Severus found himself getting more bold now that the conversation had proven to be rather amicable and Lekhoba did not seem inclined to kill him anytime soon. Running his eyes over the other man's tall form, taking in the broad shoulders, lean waist, and angular features. His shoulder length black hair with the white streaks at the temples pulled back into a low ponytail, greenest of green eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Severus check him out and did nothing to stop it, and his long, pale fingers slowly rotating the tea cup on the arm of the chair.

"It seems as though you would not be entirely opposed to the idea."

Blushing furiously now at being caught so blatantly looking, Severus tried to hide in his cup again only realize it was empty. A pale hand suddenly appeared in front of his face and he jumped slightly, looking up to see Lekhoba standing in front of him, motioning for him to pass over his cup which he did.

Staying seated on the couch while Lekhoba moved over to the counter again to make another cup of tea for them both, he did his best to convince himself he wasn't checking out the man's ass. Now that he was thinking about it on his own terms and not because the old man of the Light was demanding it of him, he couldn't deny that it would be rather appealing to become involved with someone like Lekhoba.

"When is he expecting you to bring us back there by?" Lekhoba's voice broke through Severus' internal fantasizing and he tried to quickly pull himself back to composure.

"He told me to wait as long as I needed to in order to...speak to you."

Lekhoba snorted again as he made his way back over and passed Severus the fresh cup of tea. "Speak to. Right. The "stun and forcibly portkey" bit sure makes for thrilling conversation."

"I did not wish to do this. As it stands, I apologize profusely for getting you dragged into this in the first place. I mentioned meeting you at the apothecary the first day in passing and did not realize that Albus would do more digging and would insist on bringing you in."

Lekhoba looked him in the eye for a long moment, as if judging his sincerity before nodding briefly, "Maliu."

"Pardon?"

"You may call me Maliu instead of Lekhoba if you wish."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Maliu," Severus smiled at him, receiving a small lip twitch from Maliu in return, "please call me Severus."

* * *

They had moved to the small kitchen table at some point. Maliu had popped out to grab some take-away food from the Leaky Cauldron and they had sat down together to eat while continuing their conversation. Severus was concerned by the fact that he was actually enjoying himself thoroughly. Considering how the encounter had begun several hours ago where he had been positive that he would never live to see beyond the four dirty walls of the run down apartment he was pleasantly surprised by how at ease he felt now in the powerful man's presence. Not to say that he himself was not powerful because he was certainly no slouch when it came to power and skill, it was clear that Maliu had far, far more.

"So," Maliu said softly after having cleared his plate.

"So," responded Severus, leaning back in the chair.

"I suppose Dumbledore's not going to leave either of us alone if I just refuse to show up."

"No, that is highly unlikely."

Maliu sighed, pushing back a few loose strands of hair that had escaped the tie that held the rest. He turned a serious gaze on Severus causing him to sit up a little straighter. After the easy camaraderie of the last few hours he was unsure if he wanted to hear whatever it was that had prompted this change. He had not been able to relax in another person's presence so fully in years.

"We should probably talk about what Dumbledore has asked of you and offered to me."

Swallowing tightly, Severus nodded.

"Tell me honestly Severus, who are you loyal to. Keep in mind that I serve neither the Dark Lord, nor the Light and do not particularly care for either of them, so your answer will not be heard by ears beyond these walls."

Looking at Maliu for a long moment, he took a deep breath and released it slowly. He had never actually admitted his honest loyalty to another person. Of course he made all the right sounds and motions when he was in front of either Albus or the Dark Lord, but beyond the confines of his mind, he had never spoke of his true allegiances. "I serve myself. That probably sounds selfish and anticlimactic, but it is the truth. I joined the Dark Lord as a foolish mistake and ran to Albus when I realized it. But truly, neither hold my devotion. I follow the best path in front of me and hope to come out alive by the end."

Maliu nodded, "Well, I'm pleased we are on the same page then. I, too, follow my own path. Quite honestly, Severus, you interest me. I find you witty, intelligent, and attractive. I would have no problem starting something with you, especially seeing as it will likely keep Dumbledore off of both our backs; for a short while anyways. If you are amenable we could perhaps see where this leads and help each other out as we go. I'm sure I can help you out with your dictator juggling and you could help me with my own personal project."

Severus thought his eyebrows might fly off his face if they rose any higher. Everything Maliu said made him want to jump on the opportunity with immediate confirmation, but all that would leave his mouth was, "I don't suppose this personal project has anything to do with the excessive amount of whispering whitesnake scales you purchased?"

Lips quirking at the corners, Maliu sat back in his chair and responded, "It might. So. Was that a yes to seeing where this might lead? And giving each other an open ear and helping hand while we're at it?"

"Yes. Very much a yes."

"Perfect."

* * *

Looking at the Headmaster from across the desk, Severus tried to hide just how amused he was.

Severus and Maliu had used the quill portkey to return to Hogwarts after their earlier conversation and Dumbledore had been attempting to grill the man, without sounding too demanding, for the last hour. He, so far, was unsuccessful and was trying to hide his frustration. Severus had never seen someone hold out against the old man for quite so long before and he was enjoying every second of it.

"Maliu, my boy -"

"Mr. Lekhoba."

"Yes, yes. Mr. Lekhoba. I'm just trying to confirm your credentials to secure your place on the faculty. So, if you could just tell me where you attended to your education, we can move on."

"I don't remember applying for a job at Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Severus hid a smirk. Dumbledore had tried multiple different angles to get any ounce of information about Maliu's history and had as much knowledge now as he had at the beginning of the conversation. 

"Yes, well. I thought you would make a good fit here, my boy."

"Mr. Lekhoba."

"Yes, Mr. Lekhoba."

"Exactly what position are you hoping I will fill?"

"Well we have an opening for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position currently."

"As far as I'm aware, any course that requires a mandatory OWL credit to graduate also requires the professor to hold a Mastery to be able to teach it. Additionally, I've heard tell of a curse on that particular position." Maliu uncrossed his legs and crossed them in the other direction, appearing to have all the time in the world.

"And do you not have a Mastery in any of our core subjects?"

Severus almost had to give credit to the Headmaster for the quick return question.

"Considering I have not applied for any position here, I'm entirely unsure as to what relevance any credentials I may or may not have would be of to you."

Seeing just the slightest twitch of the corner of Maliu's lips and the brief flash of rage across the Headmaster's face had Severus reaching up to scratch his nose to hide the smile he could no longer contain.

"My boy -"

"Mr. Lekhoba."

Dumbledore gritted his teeth before smiling, though the twinkle in his eyes was nowhere to be seen. "Yes, Mr. Lekhoba. Do you have any Masteries or teaching experience in any of the core or elective subjects we teach here at Hogwarts?"

"Ah, Headmaster, why didn't you just ask that in the first place? I hold Masteries in Defence, Duelling, Potions, Runic Magic, Blood Magic, and Dark Arts."

Severus watched the tension and suspicion fill the Headmaster at the proclamation of the last two Masteries listed. He himself was confused as to why Maliu would offer up that information so willingly when he had been dancing around the Headmaster's questions for over an hour now.

"Blood Magic and Dark Arts are rather dangerous things to play around with, my boy."

"It is necessary to have a full understanding of the Dark Arts in order to defend against them appropriately, and Blood Magic ties into Runic Magic far too often to not be well versed in one if you are the other. Oh, and Headmaster? I've reminded you several times now and would appreciate you referring to me by my name; Mr. Lekhoba."

Dumbledore forced another smile, though it was rather brittle. "So you do have a Mastery in Defense Against the Dark Arts. As such we can move forward with instating you as the new DADA professor starting this term. You will be paid a substantial salary, and room and board are included. If you'll just -"

"Headmaster Dumbledore. I have not agreed to anything. Clearly, you are not willing to hear the unspoken words, so allow me to verbalize them; I will not be assuming the Defence Against the Dark Arts position in any way, shape, or form."

"My b-, Mr. Lekhoba. I simply would like to have someone who is so clearly well educated in a position to inspire and encourage the next generation. A role model, if you will. Imparting knowledge to the next generation is the most rewarding experience one can have."

Maliu sat back further into his chair and laced his fingers together in his lap. "Headmaster Dumbledore, you evidently are not going to take no for an answer and I am rapidly tiring of this conversation. If you absolutely insist on imposing on my time, then I suppose I would be able to accommodate a professorial role here at Hogwarts. You will triple the standard salary afforded to teachers, and the school will provide funds for any materials or supplies needed for the course. I will also not be signing anything beyond a one year contract and my lawyers will look it over before hand. I will also not be taking the Defence position. I have no desire to die before the year is out because of a curse an entire school full of Mastery holders could not remove. If I must take any role, I will take on the Ancient Runes course and nothing else. If this is not agreeable to you then I'm sorry to say that this will be the end of this conversation and any henceforth."

Severus was ready to burst. He had never been so glad to be sent to his own potential death before. If he hadn't gone after Maliu he never would have gotten to witness this conversation, and this could fuel his patronus for years to come.

Dumbledore's regularly twinkling eyes were full of irritation, "I'm sure we can make arrangements. What is your address, that I might send you a copy of the contract in a day or two?"

"That is unnecessary. I will return in three days to collect the contract. It was lovely doing business with you, Headmaster Dumbledore. I'll be in touch. Severus, would you walk me out?"

"Of course, Maliu," Severus couldn't help but rub in his first name basis with the man in front of the Headmaster. Standing, he caught sight of the amused look in Maliu's eyes at his jibe.

"Severus, please return once you've seen Mr. Lekhoba to the gates. I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you yet," Dumbledore added as they made their way to the door.

"Of course, Headmaster."

With that, Maliu exited the office door and down the stairs with Severus following close behind.

* * *

Neither spoke as they walked through the halls; two tall black figures with barely an audible footstep to alert any to their path. Once outside the front doors and walking towards the gate Maliu spoke, "That went about how I expected. Do you think he'll give you too much trouble when you go back?"

"Hmm. He'll try, definitely. Fortunately, after you ran circles around him for almost two hours, his own ego won't allow him to believe that I may have gotten more out of you than he himself could."

"Good. I enjoyed our conversation earlier, Severus, and I would be pleased if you would like to repeat the experience....minus the breaking and entering of course."

Severus blushed slightly. "Yes, well." He cleared his throat, "I would also like that."

They had reached the gates and slowed to a halt. "Come by tomorrow, if you're available, and we can discuss further details for our arrangement. I'll add you to the wards so you may apperate in."

"Thank you. I'll do that." He hesitated slightly, feeling like he should say something else but unsure of what. Finally he settled on just saying goodbye and waiting to speak the following day. "Good evening, Mr. Lekhoba, I'll see you in the morrow."

"Good evening to you as well, Mr. Snape," Maliu said with a small lip curl. Severus watched as Maliu moved through the gates and disapperated with a quiet _pop_ before sighing and turning to deal with the old man.


End file.
